


The Ties That Bind

by asgardianbackseatbickering



Category: Norse Religion & Lore, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 11:04:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2505503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asgardianbackseatbickering/pseuds/asgardianbackseatbickering
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki doing some reflecting on his relationship with Sigyn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ties That Bind

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know, I just had this mood for something fluffy with these two. Also I suck at titles and summaries.

Loki was restless.

Wandering the vast halls and corridors of the palace or the narrow city streets, he was ever cautious of what the crowds whispered amongst themselves, if he caught wind of any slander falling from their lips concerning his person. He was skeptical when crossing their paths for he did not trust them, after all. The god had witnessed them praise and charm their way to a better name only to turn his back and hear the opposite of their blessings far too often for him to do so.

Although, he supposed, his infamous reputation as trickster of the court likely made him equally as unloved in return.

Loki was withdrawn.

He did not express his joy or fondness in abundance as the few times he did it was turned to be used against him and he had quickly learned his lesson. The deity had changed tactics now to smaller gestures, more subtle glances and private touches and only still those after he had allowed himself to open up to friend or loved one, allowed them behind the wall he had built around him.

It could vary from weeks to months before he did, which oft led to others simply retiring their efforts and regarding him as detached. Cold and indifferent to anything but his own affairs. And if that was their judgement the god, in his opinion, was glad to be rid of them.

Loki was jealous.

Or ambitious as he prefered to call it. In both matters of business as the heart. He desired a title and the respect that inevitably came with it. A kingdom to call his own. A loyal queen to rule by his side. There had been past, fleeting lovers, of course, but with each the prince had carried a certain insecurity, feeling the need to curl around them like the serpent that he was and hiss poison whenever another threatened to get too close.

He was selfish and greedy. What was his, was his alone and he suspected that to be part of the reason why they left sooner or later. Why most were unwilling to have anything to do with him.

Loki was and still is all those traits and more. Yet he finds himself perhaps caring less and less about them with each passing day since she was there.

The hushed rumors and blasphemous words being exchanged out of sight in secluded corners remained, he was certain, but once she linked her arm with his to walk with him that was all that mattered. He barely took notice of them then, the noise drowned out by the sweet sound of her voice or the caress of her fingers through his raven locks when they sat perched upon a bench and his head found its rest within her lap.

There were days, even now still, when the prince did not care for conversation and merely desired to be on his own, stowed away in his chambers or some room only he had access to, and it had him dreading at first it would be what drove her away just as it did the others. She caught him off guard, however, with her patience and understanding and how she always welcomed him back into her arms and bed as warmly as she had ever done before.

Loki did not shower his love with extravagant gifts, did not declare his devotion from the rooftops nor could he offer her a crown and palace. But she had ensured him; after doubt had crept in as well about him being a good suitor compared to other interested parties; he needn’t to. She knew he would provide according to the best of his abilities and that he cared, she felt it in the way he would entangle their fingers when she curled an arm around his waist in her sleep, in every doting kiss he pressed to her lips and every murmured phrase of affection.

She was his for better or worse she would jokingly say and he believed her fully, his usually chaotic enjoying just a sliver of peace as he at least had been gifted one constancy in his life.


End file.
